


Taking the Trouble To Practice

by Colourofsaying



Category: Demon's Lexicon - Sarah Rees Brennan
Genre: BDSM, Light-Hearted, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:58:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colourofsaying/pseuds/Colourofsaying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie isn't sure he can pull off this whole evil-magician-with-demon-slave business, since acting isn't exactly his forte. Nick just thinks he needs to practice.</p><p>Inspired by the author's November cookie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking the Trouble To Practice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clavicular](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clavicular/gifts).



Jamie was accustomed to unexpected Nick. He had been unexpected at his own house, at school, and at Jamie's house - on one memorable occasion, he had been unexpected in Jamie's bedroom. Nick has never seemed to have resigned himself to unexpected Jamie, but to be fair, when Jamie arrives unexpectedly, there’s usually something else going on and everything’s going to go to – not hell, because although demons are manifestly evident, apparently people don’t go to demon-land – a very unpleasant place, in a very unpleasant way. The likelihood of Nick being pleased about Jamie being unexpected was, therefore, minimal.

Especially since Jamie was there fully intending to be difficult. He knew that this was the only plan that would work – the only plan that _could_ work, and of course he wanted to protect Mae and revenge Annabel and defeat the evil magicians for once and for all, but Jamie was well aware that his purpose was aesthetic, not artistic, and acting definitely counted as art.

Jamie didn’t do art. It always ended badly.

Except for the magic.

Anyway, he was there at Nick and Alan’s hopefully very temporary door, standing on the filthy step and trying to force himself to knock. Alan was obviously at whatever bookstore he’d managed to get a job at that time, and what if Nick was in the shower and didn’t hear Jamie knocking? Actually, what if Nick was in the shower and _did_ hear Jamie knocking? The humiliation of knocking unheard was no doubt lesser than the humiliation of being struck dumb – again – by Nick’s very fine abdominal muscles.

If he didn’t want to be stared at by Jamie, he shouldn’t be so very, very fit. It was a law. Mae had declared it. And then they had gone to the gym and sat in the tree outside the men’s locker room windows.

The door was green. Jamie stared at it. It didn’t do anything. He raised his hand to knock. The door opened.

“Jamie.” Nick said. He was dressed and entirely dry. Jamie bit back a disappointed sigh. The humiliation probably wouldn’t have been that bad.

“Is that a good Jamie or a bad Jamie? I mean, it sounded like a pretty neutral acknowledgement of presence, but it might have been a question, I think I heard some minor intonation at the end. Was it a question?” Jamie said, gesturing with the hand he had raised to knock. It was already up there, it might as well do something.

“No,” Nick said, and stepped back. It was probably an invitation to come in. Jamie stepped in and squinted through the gloom at the cheap plaster walls. “Why are you here?”

“I longed for your presence. Thoughts of you menacing me were like mirages of water in a desert. I simply had to come. And, well, I don’t think I can do this!” Jamie said, getting it out. “It’s just not me! I’m tiny and blond and wear _purple_ , and I can’t draw or sing or – or play the violin, so I certainly absolutely no doubt can’t act! Especially not like this! I could be helpless, I can be helpless really well, but I can’t – I’m not _like_ that.”

Nick looked at him.

“As a picture of violent domination, you lack something,” he agreed dryly. “What if I menaced you with my sword?”

“No, no menacing – as much as I long for it, friends don’t menace friends, remember?” Jamie said frantically. “Especially not with swords.”

“Then you’re going to have to practice,” Nick told him, and walked into the living room. It was full of bookshelves. Alan’s desk was tucked up under the window. “It’s Alan.”

Which for Nick was basically saying ‘it’s God’ or ‘the whole planet is at stake’. Resistance was futile. Jamie followed Nick into the living room, and draped himself artistically over the couch. Nick shoved his feet up and sat down.

“Right, fine, practice,” Jamie said sullenly. “How do you practice being an evil bastard?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Nick said. “It comes naturally.”

They sat in silence. Jamie thumped his toes into Nick’s leg, over and over. Nick didn’t move. Jamie stopped. He thought about it. An idea came to him.

“Go stand by the door. Don’t speak unless I tell you to,” he told Nick, and slithered upright, tucking his feet underneath him. It was a very good slither. He’d practiced. Nick stood up, and walked over to the door without question.

Jamie blinked. He stood up, strolled towards Nick. Villains were liquid, in a bag of some sort – no. He was being evil right now, and didn’t have time for mental sideroads.

“Come here, Nick,” he said, and gestured in front of him. Nick came, and stood, his face completely blank. Jamie walked around him, looking him over.

Normally, he tried – with marginal success, but still, no one could say he hadn’t tried – to keep from staring too hard. Nick was, as far as Jamie had seen anyway, straight, and moreover, he’d said he was Jamie’s friend. Friends didn’t ogle other friends’ arses, or if they did, it was completely consensual arse-ogling, which this wasn’t, but right now, Jamie was evil and damned if he wasn’t going to look properly.

He came back in front. Nick, for Nick, looked confused. Jamie leaned in for a moment, grabbed the talisman, and yanked, pulling Nick’s head down so that their eyes were on the same level. Nick’s eyes flashed, but he didn’t speak. That was probably good, Jamie thought, and hoped feverishly that the next thing wasn’t going too far. It was the only thing he could think of, though – what else would a magician (Gerald) ask for if he had a demon in his power? It would be magic, magic, magic all day long. Magicians (oh god, he’d been so _stupid_ ) wouldn’t ask for the things Jamie wanted. And if they would, he really, really didn’t want to know. Visions of Black Arthur and Anzu appeared in his head like evil mind-scarring brands. He shook his head, blinked. Nick was waiting patiently.

“Give me magic, Nick,” he said softly, and stopped. Nick froze. Jamie smiled slowly, pretending that his uncertainty and fear were completely invisible. The other boy watched him, coldly impassive; Jamie’d never really known how well Nick could read faces – if expressions, like words, were difficult things he’d never quite mastered. Then Nick smirked, and Jamie felt the power flow into him and _oh god_ he didn’t _care_ anymore.

Heat poured into him, whispered through his veins, infused every cell with energy until his body trembled with it, an ecstatic hedonistic trembling. His eyes snapped shut, and his head fell back as a flush swept up his body. He felt peculiarly aware, every brush of fabric and breath of air across his skin a sensuous demand for attention.

He was probably moaning, he thought distantly, and didn’t care.

Eventually, the sensations eased, settling into his bones like the memory of flight, and he opened his eyes. Nick was still standing in front of him, and Jamie smirked. At this distance, standing chest to chest, looking up into Nick’s face, it was easy to see even in the blackness of Nick’s eyes that his pupils were blown wide, easy to feel the quick rise and fall of his breath, easy to sense the sudden heat of his body.

“Kneel,” he said, and Nick did. With alacrity, if Jamie were going to assign a description to the movement. Evil empress, he reminded himself, barely managing to keep the giddy happiness off his face. He thought about what he was going to say next. “Did you like it, Nick, giving me magic? I wonder if it aroused you, if you felt like I did. Or was it the orders you liked? Do you like doing as I tell you, Nick?”

Nick was silent, staring at the floor.

“Look at me,” Jamie snapped, and Nick’s chin jerked up. He met Jamie’s eyes, and a shudder ran through his body. The wave of answering heat surprised Jamie – he had, when fantasizing, assumed that should he ever be in this scenario he would not, as it were, be the one standing. That had evidently been a miscalculation. It was probably the demon influence. “Do you like it when I tell you what to do?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Nick ground out, glaring. His face promised retribution, lots and lots of painful retribution, possibly with swords. Jamie started shaking, little quivers of arousal that twitched through his body and removed his knees. He reached out and stroked a finger along Nick’s ridiculously chiseled cheekbone, drew it down his jawline and across his lips. Nick, apparently sensing an opportunity for revenge, sucked the finger in.

Jamie’s vision went all sparkly. When it came back, he was standing, but barely, one hand bracing himself on Nick’s shoulder, a victim of Nick’s terrifying powers of demonic sexiness. He stood up straight again and took his finger back, put it in his own mouth. Nick _growled_.

“Stay,” Jamie told Nick, and swayed off towards the couch, desperately trying to keep his legs in place long enough to sit down. They lasted, and he draped himself across the sofa as fetchingly as he knew how. Judging by Nick’s face, it was pretty fetching. Jamie preened a little, and started unbuttoning his shirt, watching Nick carefully.

Nick’s fingers twitched, and he started to shift upwards, coming towards Jamie.

“ _No_ ,” Jamie said harshly. “ _Stay_.”

Nick subsided. His cheeks, normally so pale, were red, and Jamie considered for a moment how very unfair it was that even when Nick blushed he managed to do it attractively. Jamie turned red all over, but Nick – it was just this bright color high on his cheekbones, as if Jamie was incredibly intoxicating, as if the sight of his skin was more of an aphrodisiac than feverfruit. Jamie gulped, and decided he didn’t mind, actually.

The magic sang through him, a clever wicked thing, guiding his fingers sure and steady down the buttons of his shirt. One by one they slid free till a sliver of smooth and creamy skin showed in the gap between the drape of crisp white cotton. He drew his hands down his chest, ran his thumbs along his hipbones, slipped them under the waistband of his jeans, elbows splayed. Nick whined, a high thin sound that sent shivers down Jamie’s spine. He popped the button loose, slid the zipper down slowly.

There, he ran into something of a conundrum. Jamie was pretty sure that there was no way on earth and probably not even in demon land to get skinny jeans off sexily, at least not by yourself, if you didn’t want to accidentally vanish them, and that was actually not that attractive of a thought anyway. Whoosh, vanishing jeans. Seductively meant _slowly,_ and anyway, these were his favorite jeans.

“Nick,” he murmured, “come here.”

Nick stood up, stumbled towards the couch. Jamie wondered if it was the arousal or the pins and needles that made Nick so clumsy, and then Nick dropped to his knees beside the couch, keeping his hands beside him like a good little pet demon. Soon, Jamie thought distantly, they were going to have to try this without the barrier imposed by the assumption of roles, as hot as this was – he wanted Nick’s hands on him, surprising and clever, wanted to know what hours of sword play felt like in calluses brushing against his skin, wanted the tease of a hot damp mouth against his neck, his chest. Right now, however, what he really, really wanted was for Nick to take his trousers off. Jamie’s trousers, that is, although come to think of it if Nick’s trousers happened to vanish unexpectedly he wouldn’t be upset at all.

“Handle these, will you?” Jamie said, taking his hands out of his trousers and gesturing down at them. Nick grasped the waistband and slowly slid Jamie’s jeans down his hips. Jamie, distracted by the very interesting sensations produced by those hands on his thighs, entirely failed to notice his pants sliding off too until his erection popped free into the cool air, resting firm and pink against his belly. He moaned and shook, and Nick yanked the jeans down the rest of the way, pulling them off and dumping them on the floor beside the sofa.

Then he paused. Jamie opened his eyes and peeked at Nick, who was looking back at him expectantly. Waiting for orders, Jamie’s mind supplied, and his erection _jumped_.

“I wonder what you want to do?” Jamie asked the air tentatively, unsure just how far he was allowed to go. “Would you like to put your hands on me?”

He paused, and looked at Nick. Not a very impressive reaction, really. Jamie decided to go a little further. He could always go back, after all, probably. And – if Nick, if it all went badly, Nick was – Nick wasn’t _stupid_ , not like the human boys Jamie had dated, Nick wouldn’t – wouldn’t hate him, after.

“Would you like to put your – your mouth on me?” he said softly, asking with his eyes for Nick to let him know if it was alright or not.

Nick rolled his eyes and swooped down, sucking Jamie into his mouth. Jamie’s eyes widened and a groan seemed ripped from his chest as wet heat encased his cock. His hands reached down and buried themselves in Nick’s hair of their own accord, it was the first time he’d touched Nick’s hair, he’d never gotten to touch Nick’s hair, it was so _soft_ , oh god he was going to come in five seconds.

Heat swept up his body. Nick’s tongue traced little symbols on his cock, trailing magic that ebbed and surged in the marks even after his tongue had left it. Jamie’s breath stopped in his throat as he arched and twisted, trying to get – he didn’t even know what, just more, more something, it wasn’t enough but _oh god_ teeth there were teeth and how had he not had any idea he would like that? Nick’s hands held his hips to the sofa, and Jamie’s toes curled as he writhed, yanking at Nick’s hair. Nick moaned around his erection, licking into the slit, and one of his hands slid down and under Jamie’s legs to roll Jamie’s balls between his fingers.

Sparks ambushed him, exploding behind his eyes, and Jamie shrieked and came, every muscle tensing. Nick sucked and swallowed him down, and when Jamie was finished, slowly let him slip out of his mouth. Jamie, melting into the sofa after what he had decided was The Best Blowjob In Any World, reached down and tugged at Nick’s collar until he climbed up and settled himself between Jamie and the back of the couch, warm and panting and, as Jamie’s hip reminded him, very hard.

Jamie turned his head and kissed Nick, licking lazily into his mouth. Nick groaned, and kissed back, apparently still content to follow Jamie’s lead. He rubbed himself gently against Jamie’s hip and Jamie poked him.

“None of that, now,” he said, pulling back briefly to speak. Nick looked at him with wounded eyes but stopped. “I have plans! Good ones!”

He fell back into the kiss, enjoying the taste of himself on Nick’s tongue, and unfastened Nick’s trousers with the hand that wasn’t squished under Nick. When he had the fastenings undone, he pushed at Nick’s hip, still not breaking the kiss, until Nick lifted up and Jamie could shove his clothing down far enough to get a hand in.

This, at least, Jamie was good at. He’d had a fair amount of practice, and had been assured that although his more commonly appreciable artistic ability was lacking, in the realm of the handjob, he was a virtuoso, an absolute master. Nick seemed to think so too, gasping into Jamie’s mouth, his heart shaking his body. Jamie wriggled his other arm down under Nick to tease at his entrance, and Nick nearly shoved Jamie off the couch as he came.

All over Jamie’s stomach and legs, unfortunately. Jamie frowned down at the come, then brightened, remembering the energy that still hummed through his bones. With a wave of his hand, the mess vanished, as did the slight tackiness of the sofa and several years of grime from the rug. Oops. Hopefully Alan hadn’t noticed the exact shade before he left for work. It was hard to imagine how else the carpet could get that clean.

Nick snickered into his collarbone. Jamie poked his hip again and wiggled his arm out from under before it could go all the way numb.

“Practice is over now,” he announced firmly, then leaned up and nipped Nick’s jaw gently. It was _right there_.

“Okay,” Nick said, his voice hoarse. He coughed twice, shaking Jamie, who clung desperately to his convulsing pillow. “Why are you still there?”

“You are warm and my bones have still not collected themselves,” Jamie told him. “Besides, if I drape really, really firmly, I might forget that I just had sex with the boy my sister likes-likes. Or at least that my sister likes him, it actually makes it harder to forget the sex part, not that I want to forget the sex part, because I don’t. The sex part was magnificent. Do you want Mae?”

“I did want Mae,” Nick said thoughtfully. “But you’re a lot less annoying.”

“Good?” Jamie said, and rolled up onto his elbow. It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. Nick sighed.

“Mae isn’t my friend, and Alan likes her anyway,” Nick explained. “This makes everyone happy.”

“Altogether less awkward, yes,” Jamie agreed, not reassured. Nick thought for a moment.

 “You’re not annoying, except when you try to cook. You should not cook,” he said finally. “You’re terrible with knives but you’re not weak. Also I find you irresistibly attractive, you sexy beast.”

“And I’m your friend,” Jamie said cheerfully. “Right?”

“Yes, Jamie,” Nick said. Jamie eyed him, and decided that was good enough. Any more prompting and Nick might get up and start inflicting horrible fitness regimes upon him. He flopped back down onto Nick’s arm, which was very nicely firm and muscular under his head.

“There’s something I meant to mention,” he told Nick’s chest. “Beforehand. I mean, it didn’t seem really necessary until the practice was, uh, coming along. But then it did, and we really should’ve talked about this beforehand because we can’t script everything that’s going to happen and I know you’re a big tough demon and can take it but for me I’d really, really appreciate it if we had a safeword so, you know, I know if it’s okay, okay?”

Nick was quiet for a while. Jamie looked up at him nervously.

“I’m trying to think of something I would object to,” he explained after a bit. Jamie gulped. Nick’s reserve of fun and depraved acts of lasciviousness was plainly much larger than his.

“What about in general, then? For me, in case the turn of circumstances requires a dramatic rescue, possibly complete with horses and a cliff and a poisoned dagger, from the evil magicians whose lair I have infiltrated and whose blandishments are tempting me into a life of murderous power hunger?” Jamie said. “You could have it too. And then I would be reassured, even if in your vast knowledge of debauchery there is nothing you object to.”

Nick blinked.

“You worry me,” he drawled. “Magicians don’t have lairs. But fine. Sock.”

“Pardon?” Jamie said. “Oh. Safeword. I guess I can see that.”

“Good,” Nick told him. “Are your bones back yet?”

“Yeeeeessssss,” Jamie said tentatively. “Why?”

“You need more practice,” Nick informed him. Jamie’s eyes went wide.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbeta'd, but that is a temporary state. Moreover, it is my first (actually finished) go at writing porn. Inspired by the author's November cookie.
> 
> Written for this prompt:
> 
> I have a LOT of love for this series. I adore the characters and their complicated relationships. My OTPs are Jamie/Nick, Mae/Sin and Alan/Gerald (yes it works out very neatly hahahaha) but I'm very, very flexible on that - I'll buy nearly any ship if the story shows how the characters got there. And gen! I love gen! If you'd rather write the characters as friends, I could absolutely go for that. I especially love the sibling relationships in this a LOT, so if you wanted to do something there, I'd adore that. Don't feel like you have to write every character under the sun - I'd prefer the focus to be on a few characters than everyone for the sake of it (although I am fond of ensemble fics!). I honestly don't care *which* few characters you focus on, though. I love them all so much.


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